


Why Do You Fight?

by ERL33



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Ace!Peter Pan, Ace!Rufio, And themes to be introduced, Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, High School AU, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary!Hook, Other, Past Child Abuse, Peter Pan 90s High School AU, Pining, There are so many more characters to be added, Tik Tok Inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25283182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ERL33/pseuds/ERL33
Summary: What if Peter Pan made it to high school? In the 90s? And the Pirates were a rival high school gang? Add in some past trauma, a dash of gay panic, and some present parental figures and you have this fic.
Relationships: George Darling/Mary Darling (Peter Pan), Peter Pan/ Rufio (Peter Pan)





	1. Rufio

**Author's Note:**

> I own NONE of this. Okay maybe a few passing fancies BUT pretty much every element of this story belongs to either the great JM Barrie (who I kin after watching Finding Neverland and learning the ENTIRE soundtrack. Don't @ me, I'm not ashamed) or the numerous creators on TikTok who have contributed to the NeverlandHigh/EverlandHigh/NeverHighAU tags. These have consumed me so, of course, I had to write about it. I'll name creators and their characters as they pop up in the story. 
> 
> I am low key terrified to post this but I think it's pretty all right. I hope I'm doing these characters justice by the people who inspired them. Seriously, go watch their content because its amazeballs!

“Luke, we are out of milk again,” Rufio called out from where his head was buried in the fridge. 

“We need eggs too,” Rufio’s uncle replied, sounding tired. Rufio popped his head out to look at him with worried eyes. He looked beat down from his latest shift in the ER but when he saw Rufio looking, the older man smiled at the teen as if nothing was wrong. 

“I can go out and get some,” Rufio offered in a softer voice but with the same gruffness he used as armor in every waking moment. Watching the tension ease out of his uncle’s shoulders released a knot of anxiety in his gut. It was a night and day difference to his life before this past summer.

“Go get some money from my wallet,” his uncle told him as he stretched slowly, arms above his head and twisting away from his nephew. Rufio smiled and went to rummage through the detritus on the countertop by the door where they threw their things as they walked in. By the time he found the wallet, his uncle had already walked up stairs to his long awaited shower and nap. His lips turned down in a frown when he saw there was only one $20 bill left in Luke’s wallet. Rufio shook his head and grabbed his own tattered leather clip. He wouldn’t put any more stress on the man who had taken him in than he had to.

Walking to the convenience store down the street, Rufio wondered what his friends were up to early on a Sunday morning. The Darlings had planned a big brunch for the whole family, even the cousins. The Lost Boys had been invited but he didn’t think anyone but Cedar would be there. Cubby had a video game marathon with Curly and Tootles so he doubted they would be up before noon. They had invited him but he had declined. Partially because he had no interest in the game they were playing and partially because he wanted to have the laundry done before his uncle came home. 

~~It wasn’t like it used to be, trying to get everything done to make his dad happy only to fail continuously. It was… a respect thing. And maybe, just maybe, a subconscious desire to make himself useful so his uncle wouldn’t kick him out.~~

Ora had a swim meet with the other Mermaids and those always started at an ungodly hour. She was incredible in the water considering she had only started swimming less than a year ago. He was continuously amazed by her. 

And then… there was Peter. Rufio couldn’t decide how he felt about Peter. Sometimes that boy drove him straight up the wall with his blatant disregard for his own self preservation and his ‘GERONIMO’ attitude. Other times, not often but in private moments when they were both waiting to see the principal after a fight in an empty office, he was so soft that it made Rufio want to punch a wall until his knuckles split. The man, the myth, the legend was just a boy like him but an absolutely infuriating one. Rufio shook his head as he recalled their last conversation.

_***_

_“You don’t have to jump into every fight that could potentially be brewing, you know!” Rufio yelled in the empty parking lot after receiving yet another Friday afternoon detention next to the biggest pain in the ass Neverland High had ever seen. Peter smirked at him with that grin that made Rufio want to kiss him and punch him at the exact same time._

_“And let you have all the fun?” he taunted, shifting his bag to his other shoulder and suppressing a wince at the movement. Rufio’s eyes narrowed but Peter’s eyes caught his and he forgot whatever had bothered him in that moment for what had been bothering him for the last hour._

_“You had no dog in this fight! It was between me and Hook!” Rufio fumed. Peter shrugged again._

_“Well, we had to make it a fair fight. TheY woulda wiped the floor with you and I woulda had ta find a new lookout for when I steal from the vending machine,” Peter joked. He looked good even with a busted lip from being shoved to the pavement. It was starting to swell again since he had given the ice bag back to the nurse before they left the school. Rufio’s own jaw was aching fiercely from one of the_ many _lucky shots Hook got in before the janitor found them and broke it up._

_“I could take theM!” Rufio argued, incensed beyond reason. He knew that was a lie but he wasn’t going to take it back. Peter was laughing at him already anyway._

_“You? Little 5’11”, 160lbs you could take on 6’1” 180lbs Hook?” he wheezed, leaning against a light post. Rufio just crossed his arms._

_“Oh and 5’10” you is supposed to be a good backup?” he sassed back. Peter’s jaw clicked shut and he glared up at his friend. Rufio suppressed the urge to apologize and smirked back instead. Peter rolled his eyes._

_“See if I help you next time you’re getting your ass beat,” he grumbled before walking towards the entrance. Rufio saw his uncle’s car pulling in and turned to see Peter was already almost out of earshot._

_“Do you need a ride?” he called out. Peter just waved a hand over his shoulder and kept walking._

***

Scoffing at the memory, Rufio kicked a stone into a bush as he crossed the park. A yelp from within the clump of greenery stopped him short. He looked around but there was no one in the park at 7:30am on a Sunday. By noon it would be full but for now it was just him and whatever was hiding in the bush. 

He considered just walking away but he couldn’t. If he had hurt a puppy or something, he’d feel terrible for just letting it suffer. He moved closer to the bushes and prayed that he wasn’t about to get savaged by a raccoon. Pulling back the branches, the sight before him made his eyes widen and his heart drop into his stomach. 

Peter sat cross legged in a little clear spot with his back to the path, rubbing his left shoulder. There was dirt and leaves in his hair, maybe even a couple twigs. More heartbreaking, in Rufio’s mind, was the thin pad the other boy was sitting on and the backpack sitting next to him.

“You know, if you want to go camping, there are actual campgrounds for that?” Rufio said at last. Peter jumped and twisted around, hands coming up defensively in front of his face. The silver haired boy waited patiently as the redhead blinked up at him through bleary eyes and… one helluva shiner.

“What are you doing here?” Peter croaked at last. Rufio shrugged.

“I was going to get milk. What are you doing sleeping in a bush? And what happened to your eye?” he asked, burying his growing panic as deep as it would go for the moment.

“Wanted to sleep out under the stars, ya know?” Peter sounded like he was trying to joke around but it fell flat as Rufio glared at him.

“It was like 40 degrees last night!” he nearly shouted but hushed himself just in time. Peter looked down and away, refusing to meet Rufio’s eyes. 

“Look, can you just go? I was watching the stars for so long, I didn’t get much sleep,” he said tonelessly after a few seconds of terrible silence. Rufio shook his head.

“You didn’t answer my other question,” he snapped. Peter’s head flew up and he glared as best he could at the boy towering over him.

“I don’t have to answer any of your fucking questions! Just leave me the fuck alone,” Peter snapped back. Rufio shook his head and climbed into the bushes completely. In here, surrounded by foliage, they were both invisible to the outside world. Hidden.

“Peter, what is going on?” Rufio asked, his voice softer as he sat gingerly on the ground in front of Peter. The other boy drew his knees up to his chest, his glare looking more like a pout as he rested his arms on his knees and looked away. Rufio sighed and leaned forwards to grasp Peter’s chin ever so gently and draw his face back around to inspect his eye.

“It’s nothing. Just from the fight Friday,” Peter replied with the most unconvincing poker face Rufio had ever witnessed.

“Hook never punched you. TheY threw you around and tripped you but theY didn’t punch you. You got the lip from where you hit the ground,” Rufio admonished. Peter flinched and shrunk farther away as Rufio talked. He looked ready to run. “I’m just trying to help,”

“Well don’t! I don’t need any fucking help,” Peter hissed with so much venom that Rufio half expected to hear a rattle. 

“Peter,” Rufio sighed and swiped his thumb over the other boy’s cheek. “You’re sleeping in a fucking bush. I think you could use a little help. Like a shower or some shit.”

That drew an unwilling laugh from Peter, which brought a tiny smile to Rufio’s face. There was nothing in the world more beautiful than when Peter Pan laughed. Not in his mind, anyway.

“The ‘Y’ doesn’t open for a couple hours,” Peter told him softly. Rufio suppressed the urge to gasp and shrugged instead.

“My shower is free. My uncle will be asleep by the time we get back. Come on,” he offered before he could question his sanity. Peter just shook his head as he broke eye contact and pulled away from Rufio’s fingers. 

“It’s cool,” he declined again. Rufio huffed and shrugged. 

“Look, I can’t make you do anything,” he tried again, drawing Peter’s gaze up to watch him warily. Praying he wasn’t about to make a huge misstep. “But I was gonna be doing some work around the house today and I could use some help. Think we could make a deal?”

“House work for a shower?” Peter asked suspiciously. Rufio shrugged. 

“I’m doing it all one way or another but it would be better with an extra set of hands,” He repeated as he started to climb to his feet. “I need to go grab milk and eggs. I’ll swing back here on my way home.”

Without looking back, he climbed past Peter and out onto the path. He forced himself to walk away with a slight swagger in his step just in case Peter peeked out after him. 

***

Rufio’s stomach bottomed out a bit when he came around the bend and didn’t see Peter waiting in the park. He clutched the paper bag in his left hand a little tighter while his right pulled his jacket collar a little closer. 

What did he care if Peter didn’t take him up on his offer? So he’d have to do the dusting by himself. No big deal. 

Passing by the bushes, he peeked through to see if he could catch a glimpse of bright red hair. As he peered inside, something small and hard hit him in the back of the head. Spinning around, he glared at an empty park. As he opened his mouth to issue some kind of nonsensical challenge, something bounced off the top of his head. He watched an acorn bounce down onto the pavement before looking up into the suddenly giggling tree. 

“You’re gonna end up cleaning toilets for that shower if you keep this shit up,” he called up into the face of a gleeful Peter. The other boy dropped down from his perch in the tree to land directly in front of Rufio. He stumbled back a step while Peter laughed. 

“Aw I’m just having a little fun,” Peter teased and ruffled Rufio’s hair. He swatted away Peter’s hand and prayed his blush wasn’t obvious. 

“Knock it off, asshole!” He laughed up into Peter’s face. Peter backed up a step with a smirk on his face that had melted more hearts than Rufio had scars. He rolled his eyes and kept walking, letting Peter catch up with him. 

“So uh, thanks for-“ Peter tried to say awkwardly after a few blocks. Rufio, who had been mentally checking the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for anything he might need to patch up his battered friend, looked up into the anxious expression on Pete’s face as he glanced over then away. He ran his hands through his hair on both sides, shoving his bangs back and off his face to curl perfectly above his temples. That was usually a confident, almost cocky, move but today it looked more like a nervous tick. A fake-it-til-you-make-it gesture. 

“It’s cool,” Rufio interrupted before Peter could ramble something that would embarrass them both. The grateful smile on the red head's face was as beautiful as it was shy. Rufio felt his face grow ever redder as they rounded the corner and walked up the narrow walk to the little grey house with faded black trim. 

“Nice place,” Peter said as they walked through the front door and he looked around at the living room. Rufio searched his face for any hint of mockery or sarcasm. But that wasn’t really Peter’s MO. He was almost always straightforward if only because he forgot to put on a facade. 

“It’s not much but it’s home,” Rufio replied as he puffed his chest out a little. Peter shrugged. 

“I like it,” he stated with a genuine smile and a wink. 

“Yeah well, come on. I gotta put this stuff away,” Rufio felt his _ears_ heating up and wished for the thousandth time he didn’t blush so easily. No amount of foundation that he couldn’t afford would cover it. 

“You said something about a shower?” Peter prodded as he tailed the slightly taller boy into the tiny kitchen. 

“Sure, you can do that first or we can clean up and then you can shower,” Rufio offered. Peter shrugged. 

“Or I could just shower twice. I have my own stuff so I won’t use up your shampoo,” he said carefully. Rufio nodded immediately. 

“Go for it. First door on the left at the top of the stairs. Do you have any laundry? I was gonna throw in a load but I don’t have enough to make a full one,” He offered spontaneously. Peter stared at him for a full minute, his eyes wide and searching with no small hint of suspicion. 

“Yeah, I have a couple things I could throw in,” He agreed at last.

“Cool thanks. I hate wasting a load when it isn’t full,” He griped convincingly. Peter started laughing as he slung his bag off his shoulder and unzipped it as it fell to his feet.

“Who knew you were so domestic,” he teased. Rufio glared up at him.

“No one. And no one is gonna find out, are they?” he growled. Peter just shoved him with a chuckle.

“Don’t worry, wifey, I won’t tell anyone your squeaky clean little secret,” Peter laughed as Rufio tackled him.

***

“Do you do this every weekend?” Peter asked as he scrubbed at a particularly stubborn stain on the kitchen floor. He was on his hands in knees with a bucket of sudsy water at his side while Rufio hand washed the white curtains that usually hung above the kitchen window in a bucket in the sink. 

“Nah, just when I have help,” he laughed. Peter groaned and flicked some water at the other boy. Rufio shrieked at the splash of cold water on his neck. Someone cleared their throat in the doorway, alerting them that they were no longer alone. Whipping around, he saw his uncle standing in the doorway looking bewildered.

“What do we have here?” he asked, crossing his arms. Peter jumped to his feet and backed up a few steps at the sound of a male voice over his head. His green eyes snapped up to meet Rufio’s grey ones. They were filled with barely contained panic and a desperate plea for… help? Protection? What the hell was going on?

“Luke, this is my friend Peter. He offered to help me out with the kitchen because neither of us have lives,” Rufio replied to his uncle, chuckling a little and forcing a smile despite his worry for his friend. Peter grabbed his left shoulder defensively, taking another step back until he was just beside Rufio. The twisting in his gut had Rufio fighting the urge to reach down and take Peter’s hand. Instead he stepped forward, partially standing between his uncle and his friend.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter,” Rufio’s uncle said carefully.

“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Peter replied with only a hint of his usual bravado. That drew a broad smile out of the older man and he nodded.

“Please, call me Luke,” He told the boy, uncrossing his arms and crossing the kitchen to open the fridge. “You hungry?”

“I’m all right,” he replied a little too quickly. Rufio squinted at him as he tried to figure out what was going on in Peter's head.

“How about you go shower and I’ll finish up down here?” Rufio offered at last. Peter’s eyes widened and flicked to Luke.

“You sure?” he asked nervously. 

“Yeah, of course. That was the deal,” Rufio assured him immediately. Peter smiled weakly and grabbed his bag from the kitchen chair as he fled up the stairs. Rufio flinched as he heard the door slam shut just a little too hard. Turning, he saw his uncle leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed again. The blush he had been fighting all morning came back full force.

“So, Peter, huh?” he asked, cocking his head to the side and studying him. 

“Yeah, we were just hanging out.”

“Hanging out? By cleaning the kitchen?”

“I thought you’d be happy-”

“Rufio, I’m not upset. I’m just confused. You don’t usually bring friends home,” he admitted. His heart clenched, just as it did every time his uncle called this little two bedroom house ‘home’. He still hadn’t gotten used to it yet. He liked it but… everything good always seemed to come to an end.

“I trust Peter. I don’t trust most people,” he admitted to his uncle with a huff. Luke's smile seemed a little sad as he shook his head. Straightening up, he stepped forward to put a crooked finger under the Rufio's chin. Looking up into the man's eyes, he realized they were almost on the same eye level.

“I’m glad you have a friend you can trust and feel comfortable bringing here. I just want you to be able to be a kid. I know it is hard and I am so proud of you. But you don't have to spend your Sunday scrubbing curtains or floors or doing laundry. You should be out at the mall or playing video games or-”

“Luke, if I wasn’t here, I’d be out doing much worse things. You know that. I know that. This… is the best place for both of us right now,” Rufio insisted, backing up a few steps to put some distance between the words and himself. He wasn’t quite ready to believe all that ‘something for nothing’ stuff just yet. 

“I know,” Luke murmured. The man opened his arms in a gentle invitation. For a moment, Rufio hesitated before stepping back towards the man carefully and wrapping his arms around his uncle’s torso. Luke hugged him gently around the shoulders with just enough pressure to support but not enough to confine. Rufio’s grip strengthened as nothing bad happened for a few long moments, clinging to him for a moment before pulling back. Luke managed a one sided grin before asking. “So… Peter is just a friend?”

Rufio groaned and buried his face in his hands. Luke started to laugh aloud as he ruffled the boy’s silver hair. Rufio glared up at him through messy bangs.

“Oh boy, you have it so bad,” he teased as he turned to pour himself a cup of coffee from the ancient machine. Rufio scoffed and ran his hands through his hair as he just about collapsed onto the seat Peter had grabbed his bag from.

“You could say that,” he admitted at last as he sat in the chair next to him. Looking up into his face, he saw nothing but acceptance in the man’s eyes. Rufio had no idea how he had managed to get so lucky to be related to this man after all the shit luck he’d had in the past.

“Does he know how you feel about him?” Luke prodded as he studied his nephew.

“No. And it's going to stay that way,” Rufio stated with all the conviction he could muster. Luke just stared at him with raised eyebrows until he groaned. “Luke, I can’t. He is the poster child of failed relationships and commitment issues. He is always jumping head first into fights while I’m trying to avoid them for the first time… ever. He’s cocky and a flirt and-” Rufio groaned and slumped his head onto the table.

“And what?”

“And I don’t want him to hurt me,” he whispered finally. Sitting up, he felt tears welling up in his eyes and willed them not to spill over onto his cheeks. “I can’t let that happen.”

“Hearts are made to love and be loved,” Luke told him gently, reaching up to cover his own heart with a trembling hand. “I wouldn’t trade a single second of what your aunt and I had to spare myself what I feel now.”

“But-”

“No, Ruf, I wouldn’t. I would do every second of our life together again if it meant that it happened. To wish away everything we had just to erase all this pain would be unthinkable. I have our memories and marrying her means I am related to you. I wouldn’t have been able to help you if it wasn’t for her. This is always going to be worth it to me. You were both my world and now you are my world and she’s my guardian angel,” he told the younger man. The tears spilled over against his will. Rufio choked on a sob and bit his lip to hold back the sound. Luke stood and grabbed his upper arm, pulling him to his feet. He wrapped his arms around his nephew like a protective moat around a castle to let him cry his heart out in safety from the rest of the world.

“I don’t know if I could survive something like that,” Rufio admitted as he snuffled and pressed his eyes against the soft cotton of his uncle’s t-shirt. The man just petted his hair and let him cry it out on his shoulder. When he was back to snuffling, Luke took a before responding,

“You already have. You’ve already survived hell and came out the other side. A little worse for the wear but you survived. You will survive whatever it is life throws at you as long as you remember to be kind whenever you can.”

“You think so?” Rufio asked in only mild disbelief, considering that his uncle had been repeating these sentiments for months now. The first time Luke had said something similar, Rufio had broken a lamp and ran away for two days. They’d both grown since then.

“I know so,” he promised, releasing him and stepping over towards the stove. “How about I make us all some lunch?”

“Sounds good,” Rufio agreed as the dryer buzzed loudly. He jumped and Luke chuckled. “I better get these clothes up to Peter. He’s going to need something clean to wear after he’s done up there.”

“Ah, but if you don’t, he has to walk down here in a towel looking for them,” Luke joked, earning a scandalized glare from his nephew. 

“Luke!” he exclaimed while his uncle belly laughed, almost doubling in half. He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped as he grabbed the clothes from the dryer and left the kitchen. Mounting the stairs, he took the whole load into his room and dumped the clean clothes on his messy bed. He picked out Peter’s clothes, most of them some shade of green, and folded them. He heard the shower cut off in the other room and hurried to finish sorting. By the time he was done, he heard the small creak of the bathroom door opening.

Exiting his room, he saw Peter’s anxious face peeking out the door and looking around. Rufio smirked and stayed quiet before jumping in front of the door. 

“Hey,” he greeted as Peter yelped and scrambled back, letting the door swing open as he backed against the far wall of the tiny room. Rufio laughed as Peter clutched the towel at his waist and scowled. 

“What the fuck?!” he snapped without a hint of humor. Rufio’s heart dropped, not only at the tone in his voice but at the sight of Peter’s bruised torso. He had a massive reddening bruise on his ribs and smaller bruises that looked like fingerprints on his left shoulder. A memory of fingers digging into his own shoulder and dragging him around flashed in his mind’s eye. "Well?"

Peter’s voice brought Rufio out of his thoughts and back to the moment. Grimly, he laid the clothes on the edge of the counter.

“I thought you might need these. Luke’s making lunch. Come down when you’re ready,” he said, deciding not to mention the bruises when Peter looked so defensive. The other boy nodded, his still damp hair flopping down in front of his eyes.

After closing the door and taking a deep breath, Rufio made his way back down to the kitchen. His uncle was putting the first of 5 sandwiches on a plate. The smile on his face faded as he regarded Rufio’s troubled expression. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he flipped a sandwich in the pan.

“Luke, there’s only 3 of us,” he protested. He smiled.

“Well I put ham on two and just cheese on 3. So you can choose what you want. I wasn’t sure if your friend was veggie or anything,” Luke explained. Rufio couldn’t help but feel guilty. He knew it was close to the end of the month. The look on Luke's face discouraged him from saying anything.

“I may not be able to provide a huge spread like Darlings but I can at least make sure you eat some lunch,” he said quietly. Before Rufio could protest, a small voice from the doorway interrupted,

“I like sandwiches,” Peter reached up to rub the back of his neck and Rufio felt his heart flutter. Or spasm. He didn’t know how this whole crush thing really worked.

“Well then you are in luck,” Luke replied cheerfully with a warm smile on his face. “Ruf, grab the iced tea from the fridge. Peter, could you set the table? Plates are in the third cupboard from the door.”

Both boys were distracted from their thoughts as they jumped to their tasks. Which was probably just what Luke had intended, Rufio mused as he rummaged around trying to find the tall pitcher among the take out containers and bottles of beer. Peter grabbed the plates and set the table, making no noise as he set them on the wooden surface. Rufio avoided his gaze as he finally retrieved the tea and put it on the table.

Silently, they both sat down at the table. Rufio knew his uncle could feel the tension in the room. His questioning look as he placed the tower of sandwiches on the table was enough to make his stomach clench. He knew that look. Luke was about to meddle and there was absolutely nothing Rufio could do to stop him.

“Ham or no, Pete?” he asked with that same warm smile that was famous in the ER for soothing even the most panicked patients. Peter actually relaxed ever so slightly and shrugged. 

“I’m not picky,” he tried to hedge but Luke raised his eyebrows in that way that always made Rufio spill whatever he was trying to hide. It was honestly a treat to see him use it on someone else for a change. “Ham, please.”

“Of course,” Luke slipped a sandwich onto his plate and put one without ham on Rufio’s. He grinned up at his uncle.

“Thanks, Luke.”

“You’re doing the dishes,” he joked. Rufio groaned dramatically with the hint of a smile on his face and bit into the sandwich. Double cheese? Oh he really was going all out. 

“So Peter, how long have you and Rufio been friends?” Luke asked as he sat down and took a sandwich of his own. Peter choked a little on his sandwich and swallowed thickly. Rufio, his mouth still full, was once again awed and terrified by his uncle’s uncanny timing.

“Since he started at Neverland High. We met in… English class?” Peter replied, eyes flicking to Rufio’s in a desperate plea for help. Rufio swallowed hard and nodded.

“Yeah, English. We both sit in the back of the room,” Rufio explained. Luke smiled as he poured himself a glass of tea. Both boys already had cups of water sitting in front of them from earlier so he didn’t offer to top them off.

“Ah, I see. Any learning actually happening in that back row nowadays?” he asked with a hint of humor in his voice. Peter’s green eyes just widened while Rufio chuckled.

“No more than when you were sitting there,” he taunted the older man. Luke reached out to ruffle his hair. Rufio almost beamed with pride that he didn’t flinch even a little at the gesture. That, even more than the hug, proved how much he had healed since coming to live with this man. 

A comfortable silence descended as they ate. Rufio tried to focus on his sandwich and absolutely nothing else. Not his uncle shooting him questioning glances. Not Peter who looked 2 seconds away from flipping the table and running for the hills. Not the frantic beating of his own heart.

“Want another one, Pete?” Luke offered after Peter had been done with his food for a few minutes. Rufio had grabbed another cheese without a thought but Peter looked hesitant. He plastered that fake smirk on his face that made Rufio want to rip it off and looked up at Luke.

“I’m okay,” he lied. Luke just rolled his eyes.

“I’m all done so that last one is all yours. Rufio here isn’t a fan of ham,” Luke explained patiently. The redhead stared at him with badly concealed suspicion but Luke just shrugged and waited. Rufio let the corners of his lips quirk up slightly and nodded when Peter looked at him, privately reveling in his uncle’s underhanded genius. The worry line between Peter’s eyebrows eased as he reached out carefully to take another sandwich. He froze and looked up at Luke.

“Are you sure you don’t want it?” he asked carefully. Luke shook his head.

“I’ve had plenty and you look like you could do with some extra meat on your bones,” he teased gently. Peter actually smiled at that and took the last sandwich while Luke stood up and put his plate in the sink. “What do you boys plan on doing for the rest of the day?”

Rufio and Peter stared at each other in utter confusion. What was their plan? They hadn’t discussed anything. Rufio winced at the words that were about to come out of his mouth and said,

“I was gonna finish-” but Luke cut him off before he could even finish the thought.

“Absolutely not,” his guardian said in a firm tone that made both boys tense almost subconsciously. “You have done more than enough cleaning for one Sunday. Come on kid, I know you know how to have fun.”

“We could go to the diner downtown. I’ve been wanting to try one of their new milkshakes,” Peter offered suddenly. Rufio looked up at Luke who was smiling.

“See now this kid gets it!” he said approvingly. Peter practically beamed with pride at the praise. He bit into his sandwich happily, looking away from the silent conversation Rufio and his uncle were having. Finally, Rufio deflated.

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” he said softly. The diner was neutral territory. The Pirates didn’t usually venture that far into town and the Lost Boys were all busy today.

“Just make sure most of your homework is done tonight. I want to do some yard work tomorrow since we both have the day off. I’d appreciate your help with it,” Luke told him. Rufio nodded.

“If you want to do it today-”

“I’m too tired to even think about it today. Go have _fun_ and get back here by a decent hour. It will be an early morning for you,” he joked before walking out of the kitchen. Peter watched Rufio carefully before swallowing and asking,

“You all right?”

“Yeah. I’m just not used to… all this. I’ve only been living with Luke for a few months so… yeah,” Rufio hedged. Peter put down the sandwich and frowned at his friend with concern.

“What do you mean?”

“I- its nothing,” 

“No, seriously, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Peter grew more agitated, standing to pace over to the sink and then back. He sat down in Luke’s vacated chair silently and leaned close to Rufio. Ruf was shocked by the close proximity. Peter usually kept people at an arm’s length. 

“It's fine.”

“If he-”

“He took me in when my dad threw me out,” Rufio admitted through gritted teeth. Peter recoiled a little as if Rufio had hit him.

“When-?”

“Right before I transferred to Neverland. I don’t like to talk about it.”

“But you’re good now… right?” Rufio couldn’t help but smile softly at his friend as a blush rose on his cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m good now. Luke is great. I mean, he always does his best. He didn’t expect to have to deal with all my shit but he’s awesome.”

“Okay. Just… okay,” Peter bit his lip as if to stop himself from saying anything else. Finally, he looked back up into Rufio’s eyes with his bright green ones and said, “But you’d tell me if you weren’t okay, right?”

Rufio just stared at him for a long moment. That was a tall order for anyone to undertake, not to mention someone with his particular past. He worried his lip between his teeth before looking back up into Peter’s intense gaze.

“If you’ll tell me when you aren’t okay, I promise to tell you when I’m not okay,” he offered, hoping there wasn’t too much of a challenge in his tone. Peter’s eyes widened almost comically at his words. His jaw dropped and he looked as if nothing in the world had ever surprised him more. Rufio maintained eye contact as if his life depended on it. 

“Rufio, I’m-”

“You were sleeping in a bush today, remember?”

“Yeah… okay, yeah. You tell me when you aren’t okay and I’ll tell you when I’m not okay.”

“But can you pinky swear on it?” Rufio challenged this time, grinning as he raised his right pinky finger out to his friend. Peter smirked and hooked his own pinky through Rufio’s.

“I promise.”

***

“Pan!”

“No! You don’t get it! Just leave me _alone_!” Peter shouted back at Rufio as the silver haired boy followed him down the deserted hallway. Everyone was either still in the lunch room or in class so they had the space to themselves for the moment.

“You fucking swore you’d tell me when you weren’t okay, Peter Pan,” Rufio shouted, catching up to his friend and spinning the redhead around to face him.

“And guess what? I’m fucking okay. So just-”

“You did it again. You went and fucking taunted Hook _again_ ,” Rufio cut him off. “And every time you get into it with Hook, you end up getting hurt. Why is that?”

“Some things just have to be done. It doesn’t mean I'm not okay. I just have shit that I handle and that’s part of it,” Peter hissed through a bloodied lip. Hook had drawn blood this time. Peter had shoved Smee when the shorter girl tried to get between him and Hook. It hadn’t ended well.

“Like what?! What did theY do that you had to go avenge whatever it was by getting the shit kicked out of you in the middle of the fucking school day?” Rufio refused to let this go. He couldn’t.

“Hook has been up Curly’s ass for weeks. TheY needed to back off,” Peter snapped. Rufio forgot what he was about to reply as what Peter had said registered.

“You were fighting TheM so theY’d leave Curly alone?” Rufio asked. Peter nodded jerkily. “Are you nuts? Curly has been standing up for theMself more lately. You don’t have to swoop in and save them.”

“Look-”

“No, _you_ look,” Rufio cut him off ruthlessly. “I don’t know what game you’re playing here but you are clearly in over your head. So maybe, if you took half a second to stop being an idiot and actually ask for some help, you wouldn’t keep getting your face beat in for NO FUCKING REASON!”

“Leave me alone,” Peter whispered, turning away to try and hide the tears suddenly spilling down his face. He sounded tired and angry and out of fight. That scared Rufio more than anything.

“Peter, we all care about you,” Rufio replied just as softly, making Peter stop dead in his tracks. “We don’t want to see you hurt anymore.”

“I’m fine,” Peter tried one more time before turning the corner. Rufio stood there for another minute before turning to walk the other direction. He was late for class.

***

Rufio hurried out of his last period as fast as he could without making any of his fellow Lost Boys suspicious. He had been watching Hook all day and theY were up to something. Something that probably had to do with the fight from that morning. Which meant Peter was probably going to need backup. It didn’t matter that he was still pissed as hell at the other boy. He’d always have Pan’s back.

He wasn’t sure why but Rufio didn’t let anyone else know that something might be going down. Maybe it was because Hook hadn’t taken along any of theiR cronies as theY wove through the halls and out the back door towards the football field. Rufio hiked his bag higher on his shoulder and crept under the bleachers. High above him on the top seat sat Peter. Hook approached him but Rufio wasn’t close enough to hear what theY said…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TikTokers:  
> Peter Pan - @theazrai  
> Rufio - @luna.c.lunatic  
> Luke - My OC but briefly mentioned in Luna's narrative


	2. Jas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh... you thought this fic was gonna be all about Peter? Yeah, so did I. SURPRISE!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing an enby character, if you couldn't tell. I've always had a difficult time using 'they/them' pronouns in my writing because I can't keep the singular vs plural straight (haha funny yeah NEXT) in my head. So I worked out a system with capitalizing the final letter in the singular use of 'theY/theM/theiR'. It's not foolproof but it helped me while writing so maybe it will also help you reading.
> 
> I highly suggest you go watch @causecommotion's Jas content for more on Jas' background. I touch on it and take some of my references directly from her work but a lot of it is implied... bc fanfiction.

“What the actual fuck were you thinking?” Jas Hook snapped as theY climbed the bleachers to stand in front of Peter. The younger teen glared up at theM through one red eye and one black eye. Jas stopped short, taking in the boy’s slumped posture and despairing expression. The heart theY could have swore theY threw out cracked in theiR chest all over again.

“What do you want, Jas?” Peter asked, his tone so defeated that he might as well have waved a little white flag as he spoke. Hook dropped to one knee on the bench in front of Peter, making the other teen jump.

“Let me take a look,” Jas instructed. Peter leaned forward for a split second as if he forgot the months of distance and hostility. Jas could see the moment that the voice in his head telling him to be wary, that nothing came for free, started blaring the alarm. He shrank back against the chain link fence that kept people from falling off the back of the bleachers.

“Don’t touch me!” he snapped, voice going up an octave involuntarily. Jas’ hands flew up, palms out, in the universal sign of surrender. 

“Okay. Okay, I won’t touch you. I promise,” theY assured in a soft voice. Peter relaxed again and stared up at theM with sad puppy eyes. “Can I at least look at it?”

“Sure,” Peter replied after a few moments of consideration. Jas leaned forward again, slower, with theiR hands palms down on the cold bleachers for balance. TheY inspected Peter’s face for any less obvious signs of damage but only saw what theY had seen during their altercation that morning.

“What happened?” Jas asked at last, sitting back on theiR haunches two steps down. Peter shrugged and looked away. “Peter what-?”

“You don’t recognize your own handiwork?” He snapped, waving a hand up at his face as he sneered. Jas tensed to lunge forward but theY saw the way Peter cringed. TheY leaned back again and shook theiR head. 

“I’d never hit you. You know that. I… couldn’t,” Jas admitted hoarsely. Peter stared down at theM, looking bereft. 

“I know,” he whispered. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“That’s why you do it,” Jas said suddenly. Realization shone in theiR eyes as theY _finally_ figured out why Peter had been acting this way since their first scuffle. Why he picked fights with theM of all people. “I’m your fucking cover story.”

“Jas, I-“ Peter scooted forward, hands coming out from their protective grip around his torso. He reached halfway between the distance between him and the person who had been his primary protector for so long. Before everything had gone wrong. 

“How bad are they?” Jas cut him off, unwilling to hear whatever excuse, or worse apology, Peter was about to offer. The younger teen crumpled a little, his shoulders caving ever so slightly as his head dropped low. 

“Not as bad as the Ansells… but not much better,” he whispered at last. Jas forgot the months of distance and weeks of anger in a heartbeat as theY slid up onto the same bench as Peter. Reaching out the way theY always had, Jas wrapped an arm around the redhead's shoulders and pulled him close. Peter slumped against theM bonelessly and rested his head on Jas’ leather jacket. 

“I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry,” Jas said after a few minutes. TheY heard Peter sniffle and pulled out one of the napkins theY had kept in theiR jacket pocket… just in case. TheY always kept a few handy. Peter took it without a word and blew his nose. Balling it up, he sat up and pulled away from Hook’s protective hold to look theM full in the face. The tears welling up in his eyes were a knife to the gut but when he spoke, that blade twisted excruciatingly. 

”Why did you leave?” He asked, looking back and away as he tried to cover the hurt with a smile that broke as soon as he tried to put it on. Scrubbing away the tears with a black gloved hand, he looked back at Hook. “Did I do something? Make me understand what I did.”

Tears fell from Jas’ eyes unbidden as theiR heart finally broke into a million charred and blackened shards. TheY leaned forward, putting theiR face in theiR hands as theY tried to stem the flow or at least hide it. Next to theM, theY felt Peter flinch at the gesture. TheY were sure he was staring at theM.

_ (What theY didn’t know was that Peter was staring in unabashed shock as he watched the strongest person he had ever met finally break down.) _

“You- you didn’t do  _ anything _ , Peter,” Jas finally choked out. “It was me. I… I wasn’t strong enough to protect you. I couldn’t take it anymore and I ran away like the coward I am. I’m sorry that I left. I failed you, just like everything else.”

Peter didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward and wrapped an arm around Jas’ shoulders to pull his former foster sibling close. Jas choked but didn't try to fight the contact. Instead theY leaned in and reached up to pull Peter into a true hug. By then tears were streaming down both of their faces. They clutched each other like lifelines, afraid to let go lest the other disappear from their lives once again. 

Finally, after much sniffling, they sat back to look each other in the eye. Jas snorted a little at the blotchy mess that was Peter’s face. Peter grinned at the eyeliner that Jas was sure had streaked down theiR cheeks. 

“We look ridiculous,” he snickered. Jas actually chuckled at that, trying to wipe away a dark smear of paint but only managing to spread it more. That drew a real laugh from Peter and soon they found themselves in giggling hysterics. The release of tension soothed them both and cleared their heads. 

As their laughter died away, they ended up sitting side by side with only a few inches of space between them. Jas pulled out more napkins and they tried to mop themselves up a little. Peter finally gave in and wiped off Jas’ makeup for theM because theY just kept smearing it around. Jas smiled softly, enjoying the sensation of being cared for, even if the napkin was rough and scratchy. Finally, Peter sat back and grinned at his handiwork. Jas did the same for him, frowning when some blood came off on the napkin from the split in Peter’s lip. TheY finished mopping him up before stuffing all of the napkins in theiR pocket to throw away later.

Sitting in comfortable silence, both kids stared out over the empty field, lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Peter took a deep breath and started.

“I thought it was my fault you left,” he said. Jas opened theiR mouth to argue but Peter shook his head. “No, I need to get this out. I thought that if I had been able to take the hits like you did, you wouldn’t have run away. I don’t blame you for it. I would have gone too but I was too scared and too stupid… and I didn’t think you wanted me with you.”

“I wasn’t sure where I was going was better,” Jas confessed quietly. Peter looked up at his sibling with bright, uncomprehending eyes. “I was going to Hangman’s Tree that night.”

“Jas!” Peter shot up straight, staring at theM with tears overflowing all over again. Jas put up theiR hands, trying to soothe him.

“I didn’t make it. It was too far and I was too chicken,” theY told him. He didn’t look any more relieved. “I ended up… somewhere worse. Worse than Ansell’s for sure. Honestly, the one thing that helped me get through that first night was knowing you were in a warm bed with a roof over your head.”

“Ansell didn’t realize you were gone for two days,” Peter told theM after a few beats of silence. Jas waited as he tried to put his words together in some kind of order that made sense. “When he figured it out, he was pissed but then he realized he was getting paid for someone who wasn’t staying in his house. That helped for a little while. But then he started getting mad that I hadn’t run away with you. He would have been getting two CPS checks with no kids… ‘the fucking dream’ I think was how he put it.”

“When did they transfer you? I was only gone two weeks...”, Jas trailed off. Peter shrugged.

“A week and a half after you left, my social worker dropped by. The night before Ansell had unloaded on me so I had a nasty bruise on my chin. I said I fell because he was standing over me but then she asked where you were. I said you ran away. And then he hit me right in front of her. She pulled me out that day. I was in a group home in the area for a while and then they placed me where I’m at now.”

“I got caught two weeks after I ran away and they sent me back to Ansell’s to get my stuff. I asked where you were but they wouldn’t tell me. And they said that Ansell had been sent to jail, probably because of what you did. They shipped me off to group home for a while before I ended up here.” Jas filled in theiR side while Peter just stared at theM.

“I- they put him in jail?” he asked softly. Jas nodded. 

“You did what no one had been able to do for years. You exposed him. You fucking won,” Jas said with a grin. Peter smirked and shook his head.

“ _ We _ did it. I never would have been able to stand up to him for me but I could do it for you,” He told his sibling. Jas blushed a little and ducked theiR head.

“You shouldn’t put yourself in danger for me,” theY said at last. Peter glared at theM.

“Like you did all those times for me?” he challenged. Jas shook theiR head.

“That’s different. You were a kid. You deserve to be protected,” TheY argued. 

“You deserve to be protected, too,” he argued. A talk he’d had with Mr. Darling came back to him. Not the words themselves but the feelings that they invoked. “I think… I think that maybe none of this is our fault.”

“What?” Jas asked, turning to look Peter full in the face. Peter clutched his hands together, twisting them nervously as he voiced something he had never truly considered.

“Well, I’ve always figured that there was a reason that this sort of thing happened. That I had done something to deserve my parents dying and being put in these shitty fucking homes. That something was wrong with  _ me _ and that's why no one ever wanted to adopt me,” he confessed. Jas resisted the urge to run away from his worst fears being said out loud by someone theY considered a little brother. Someone theY lo- cared about. Peter didn’t look up as he continued to speak. “But after becoming friends with the Lost Boys and Wendy, and the Darling’s letting me into their home, I think that maybe I was wrong. That the problem wasn’t me. It was the people around me. It was the social workers and the group homes and the foster parents and the whole shitty system who failed  _ me _ , not the other way around. And if that’s true… then maybe I didn’t deserve it. It was just shitty luck, not a punishment for existing.”

“Peter…” Jas breathed, not knowing how to say that theY knew that already. Peter had never deserved any of the shit he had been put through. Peter wasn’t the stupid, worthless, no good, goddamn, freeloading son of a bitch. The big mouth, know-it-all, asshole, jerk, lying sack of shit, gutless turd. No, Peter could never deserve any of the hand he had been dealt. The two sat side by side, lost in their own thoughts for a few long minutes. Those thoughts were quite different but no less profound.

“I think that’s what the group home counsellor would call a ‘break through’,” Peter chuckled at last. He startled a laugh out of Jas who had been frowning seriously only a moment before.

“Yeah, look at you with all your psycho-babble,” theY teased. Pan laughed at that.

“Well, it isn’t the first time I’ve been called ‘psycho’,” he joked back. This sent them both into fits of laughter. They found themselves sprawled over the bleachers, bags propped behind them to act as backrests as they lounged. Peter winced as the cut in his lip split a little and started to bleed again. Jas frowned at it as theY offered theiR next to last napkin. Peter smirked as he dabbed at it.

“Sorry about that,” theY said after a moment, gesturing at his lip. Peter shook his head.

“I always know how to push your buttons,” he joked. Jas rolled theiR eyes.

“Yeah, you really went out of your way that first time. Did you have to pull that shit in the middle of the cafeteria?” theY complained. Peter shrugged.

“I needed everyone to see. That way, the next time I said we got into it, no one would question me. And then I only had to bait you once in a while to keep it up. I get into enough fights that no one would really question it,” Peter told theM. Jas stared at him, impressed.

“You really are smarter than you look,” theY joked. Peter shoved theiR shoulder, right on a bruise that was covered by three layers of clothes, making theM wince. Immediately, he opened his mouth to apologize but Jas shook theiR head. “It's fine. For once, it was actually a door frame. I hit it when I was running out because I was late for school.”

“You hurried because you were late for school?” Peter asked in disbelief. Jas blushed.

“I was late for 3rd period,” theY admitted. Peter squinted at theM. Jas sighed before giving in. “I have Home Ec 3rd period.”

“Whaaaaaaaat?!” Peter hollered, laughing so hard he nearly fell off the bench. Jas pushed him the rest of the way off but he just kept laughing. 

“Shut up!” theY exclaimed, trying not to give in and laugh right along with him. Tears streamed down Peter’s face as he coughed, trying to wheeze in some air.

“You’re a fucking home ec nerd!” he exclaimed at last. Jas jumped up and leaned over him, intent on tickling the ever loving shit out of Peter, when theY heard a shout from below. Looking around, theY saw a group of Lost Boys running across the parking lot towards the bleachers. Below them, Peter and Jas watched Rufio run out from under where they had been sitting for the past hour, hands up to stop them. Jas swore and grabbed theiR bag, backing away from where Peter was climbing to his feet. Peter stared up at theM with the most insecure expression on his face that Jas had ever seen. Honestly, when had theY ever been able to ignore those big green eyes, theY wondered ruefully.

“Wanna call a truce?” Jas offered gruffly. Any doubts theY had about the split second decision vanished at the beatific smile that spread across his face. Peter’s grin was infectious but Jas fought it as best theY could. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’ then.”

“I mean, if you don’t-”

“I’m not really that good at pulling punches. Trying to fight your annoying ass without actually hurting you has been a fucking challenge,” Jas groused, cutting off any of Peter’s doubts as well as theiR own escape routes.

“I have always been and will always be, a challenge,” Peter crowed as they both loped down the bleachers and around the corner to where Rufio was holding off the Twins and Looter. Jas reached over and ruffled his hair with one scarred hand which had Peter caught between preening and offended. The stunned look on the Lost Boys’ faces as they approached was priceless. If either of them had possessed cameras, they would have dearly loved catching their expressions on film. 

“Ummm… care to fill us in?” Looter asked, looking suspiciously between Hook and Peter. Jas glared down at the green haired boy out of habit but Peter just laughed.

“TheY’re one of us now,” Peter told them, thrusting out his chest. Jas elbowed him in the side and Peter deflated a little. “Okay, so we’ve decided to call a truce. But eventually we’ll bring theM to the dark side.”

“If anything, my side is the dark side,” Jas disagreed with only a hint of theY’re usual sneer. The Twins peered up at theM suspiciously but just shrugged. Jas knew that they wouldn’t argue with Peter. Rufio and Looter, on the other hand, were definitely gearing up for a fight.

“How do we know you’re for true?” Looter bit out, glaring at the taller kid like theY were a dangerous animal… which, to be fair, was Jas’ fighting style.

“You don’t,” Jas told him with a smirk that was not reassuring. Peter rolled his entire head instead of just his eyes.

“I’m vouching for theM, Looter,” Peter told the little group. “I say Jas is cool, so theY are.”

“Big words for someone who is 5’10”,” Hook ribbed him. Peter pushed theM away as Jas cackled. Standing upright again, Jas looked Looter in the eye.

“We both called a truce. My crew will stay out of your business,” theY said with a conviction that had the twins sharing a shocked glance while Rufio and Looter frowned. Rufio kept looking between Peter and Jas with an expression of repressed rage and pain. Jas almost felt bad for the kid. TheY could smell the URT from a mile away between theiR little brother and this ex-Pirate. It was nauseating.

“And you won’t attack anyone without cause,” Peter prodded. Jas glared down at him.

“Excuse you?” Jas snapped. Peter blinked and backed up a step.

“I mean like Curly. You leave Curly and the other little ones the hell alone,” Peter drew himself up to his full height, stepping forward until he was right in Jas’ face. It was so precious that Jas had to work to hide theiR smile.

“Ah, but Curly just started to fight back,” theY complained. Peter crossed his arms and Jas rolled theiR head in an almost exact mimic of Peter’s gesture. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be nice or some shit.”

“Like you ever could, asshole,” Peter joked. Jas dropped theiR bag. Peter took off across the parking lot, shrieking taunts as Jas chased him, spewing threats. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jas Hook - @causecommotions  
> The Twins - @frozenangelc0sp1ay  
> Looter - @cheakay


	3. Looter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think we need an outsider's perspective on these two ruffians...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this one is tiny but I needed to break up the perspective. Because that's honestly what this whole fic is about, me practicing my writing style and characterizations.
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is SO VERY WELCOME. Especially if you have experience with Ace/Aro/Enby characterization as a writer or a member of those communities.

The Lost Boys stared on in absolute bafflement as they watched Peter and Hook act like little kids playing tag in the parking lot behind the empty football stadium.

“What the actual fuck is happening?” Looter turned to ask Rufio. The venom in his voice was so potent that it made Rufio back up a step.

“I don’t know but they’ve been up there since school ended,” Rufio said honestly but with no lack of disdain. “I wasn’t able to catch much of what they said. Just some shouting. But they didn’t immediately start trying to kill each other so I figured that hanging back was my best bet.”

“Are they ex’s?” Binky asked softly as Jas finally caught Peter in a headlock. Looter had been wondering the same thing.

Peter eventually shoved Jas off and walked back over to them to grab his bag. Jas wasn’t far behind, smoothing out theiR ponytail and reasserting theiR imposing stoic expression before reapproaching. Both were a little red but neither looked more injured than before.

“So, we going to the Darling’s or not?” Peter asked. The Lost Boys glanced over at Jas in unison. Peter pouted. “Guys, come on, I said theY’re all good now.”

“Maybe it’s not a good idea,” Jas said in a low voice. Peter looked back at theM with a confused frown. Jas shrugged. “Ease everybody into this weird new truce thing. Besides, I’m meeting up with some friends.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” Peter said, bringing out the sad puppy eyes again. Jas groaned.

“You can’t keep using those. They’ll start to lose their potency,” theY admonished. Peter just looked sadder. “Stop it!”

“Peter only uses his ‘sad eyes’ on adults and Wendy,” Marmaduke piped up, earning shushes from the rest of the Lost Boys. Peter turned to glare down at Marmaduke who was grinning at the attention. Jas just laughed.

“Aw, do you really see me like that?” theY joked, not knowing just what that might mean but apparently not having the restraint to keep theY’re mouth shut. Peter shrugged and rubbed his neck. Jas’ eyes widened at the gesture before rolling them in exasperation. Looter wondered just how long they must have dated to have this kind of connection. Not to mention, how bad the breakup must have been for them to fight all the time like they had been before this afternoon. “Look, I’ll come with you if you just knock off the puppy eyes.”

Peter lit up like a christmas tree and pulled his bag on in a less than graceful move. His grin was usually infectious but Jas seemed adept at keeping a straight face in spite of Peter's charm. TheY just rolled their eyes and picked up theiR own bag. The Twins, having met their ADHD’s limit for standing still, ran off across the parking lot with much shoving and rough housing. Looter hung back with Rufio, still watching Jas suspiciously as theY walked ahead with Peter. 

“So, ex’s then,” Looter confirmed. Rufio shrugged jerkily and sniffed at his comment but didn’t reply. “You okay?”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” Rufio hissed back. Looter gave him a kind look that probably made Rufio want to punch him.

“Aw come on, Ruf. You can’t lie to me,” Looter told the other boy gently.

“Look, Peter’s happy so everyone is happy, right? And if Hook’s crew leaves us alone, we may actually get to have a school year that isn’t one long running fight,” Rufio told him. He was trying to sound resigned and mature but it just came out as pouty. Ahead, Peter was chattering away at Jas’ side while the older teen smiled softly down at the redhead. Looter could never have imagined such an expression on Hook’s face but there it was. 

Looter just shook his head. He couldn’t wait until all the Lost Boys convened the next day before school at their usual spot. Peter was going to have a helluva time explaining this one.


	4. Jas 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LADIES AND GENTLEMAN! THE MOMENT YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR! THE PRIDE OF THE LOST BOYS AND ASSORTED HANGERS ON! 
> 
> MARY DARLING <3
> 
> PS. If you are one of the creators of this tag (mercy me, I almost hope they never see this because that would mean being SEEN) and you have issues with how these characters are being portrayed, please let me know and I'll do my best to amend the plot holes or character portrayals. 
> 
> Anywho, enough chatter, TO THE FIC!

“Okay, so the Darling’s are like the best,” Peter told Jas as they turned the corner onto the block where the Darling house stood. He had only gained momentum as they had walked the three blocks from school to the house. It was one of the many reasons that the Darling household was the favorite hang out for the Lost Boys and assorted hangers on of the Darling children. Jas rolled theY’re eyes and didn’t say anything. TheY wouldn’t believe it until… well, even seeing proof would still be a hard sell.

Peter walked right up the driveway to the medium sized white house and opened the side door without hesitation. Jas hung back as the other Lost Boys piled into the house. Peter waited for theM, holding the door open patiently. 

He didn’t say anything. Just waited.

“You still remember the code?” Jas asked after a moment. Peter nodded firmly.

“I’ve never told another soul,” he confirmed. Jas relaxed a little. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t think it was safe. I promise.”

“You know, if anyone else said that, I’d punch them and leave,” Jas groused as theY finally walked through the door. Peter chuckled under his breath as he followed theM in and closed the door behind them. In the kitchen, Looter, Rufio, the Twins, Curly, and Wendy crowded at the table around the snacks that a brightly colored woman had just placed there. The entire kitchen went dead quiet as Jas entered. A flush fought its way up theY’re neck at the attention. Peter pushed theM aside just a little to pop his head around and smile up at the only adult present.

“Hiya, Mrs. Darling. I brought a friend,” he said cheerfully. Jas wanted to roll theiR eyes at his dramatics but the fear that was turning theiR chest to ice didn’t leave much room for humor. Mrs. Darling was a pretty woman. She had bright pink hair and a kind smile as she took a step towards them. There was confusion in her face as she eyed first theM and then the rest of the kids in the kitchen. The pure fear on Curly’s face was particularly problematic.

“I see that. And just who might you be?” she asked Jas. TheiR throat closed up just like it always did when an adult addressed theM but Peter had always been good at swooping in to save theM.

“This is Jas,” Peter told her. Jas figured Peter wasn’t sure just how much of their relationship he wanted to reveal at this point so he was keeping the introduction short on purpose. TheY couldn’t help but be grateful for Peter’s restraint. TheY didn’t need theiR business aired out for everyone to know.

“I see. Well, it's nice to meet you, Jas. You hungry?” Mrs. Darling said after a moment's consideration. Jas shrugged, not wanting to admit even to themselF that theY were starving since theY’d missed Home Ec that morning.

“Aw, you know we’re always hungry,” Peter joked as he slipped past Jas to approach the table and grab a pizza roll off the plate. Jas didn’t move. When Peter looked up and found that Jas wasn’t there, he was visibly confused by the lack of a shadow. Turning back, he beckoned Jas forward with a jerk of his head. Instead, Jas backed up a step towards the door.

“You know, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I’ll just see you around,” Jas told the room at large but mostly focusing on Peter. “I won’t forget our deal. See you-”

“What?” Peter interrupted, putting down his half eaten pizza roll to turn and walk right up into Jas’ space. Jas felt like theY couldn’t breathe.

“It’s just kinda hot in here,” Jas told him, not quite able to look him in the eye. Peter grabbed theiR arm and dragged theM out the door without another word. The rest of the Lost Boy’s got up to follow but Mrs. Darling said something Jas couldn’t hear. 

And then they were both outside and Jas felt theiR back hit something solid. Maybe the siding of the house?

“Hey, it's all good. Breathe. We’re safe,” Peter said quietly, threading his fingers through Jas’ so their palms stuck together. Jas coughed and tried to suck in a desperate breath but theY couldn’t seem to get enough air in theiR lungs. Peter started to count breaths as calmly as if he did it every day. Jas focused on the sound of his voice and tried to clear the foggy panic that was clogging theiR mind.

After a few minutes, Jas was able to look up into Peter’s bright green eyes. They were filled with concern in a way that Jas wasn’t used to being looked at with anymore.

“I’m okay,” theY said finally. Peter released a breath that he had apparently been holding since he had stopped counting.

“What happened? What triggered it?” he asked with a little more force than usual. “Did one of them-”

“No, not in particular. Though I think Curly would strangle me if theY could reach,” Jas tried to joke. Peter didn’t give theM the out. Jas sighed. “It was just… a lot of people in a small space. And, I couldn't see the exits.”

“The back door is on the left but you couldn’t see it because of the cabinets. And the door to the rest of the house is to the right. There’s also a door to the dining room but it doesn’t have the trim anymore so it doesn’t stand out.” Peter told him. Jas felt theiR heart rate slow as Peter talked theM down. “Better?” 

“Yeah, better.” Jas agreed. The anxiety was still there but it was fainter. More like crawling under theiR skin than an ice bath.

“Do you want to go back in?” Peter asked. Jas shook theiR head. “Okay, we can-”

“You can go back in. You don’t have to leave just because I’m chicken shit,” Jas argued. Peter bristled at the words.

“No, you fucking aren’t,” Peter snapped up at theM. Jas rolled theiR eyes.

“Look-”

“If you don’t want to go back inside, then we don’t have to. But I didn’t get my brother back just for you to walk away right after,” Peter told theM, a tremor creeping into his voice. Jas looked up into his face and realized what was scaring him.

“I’m not going to renege,” theY told him. Peter shrugged. Their fingers were still intertwined so Jas rubbed the back of Peter's hand with theiR thumb. 

“I… know that but I don’t. And this is the safest place in this whole stupid town. That’s why we all come here,” Peter told theM. Jas deflated.

“I-”

“I’ve kicked everyone out of the kitchen,” Mrs. Darling interrupted them from the doorway. Jas pushed away from the side of the house, disentangling theiR hands from Peter's, and backed up a few steps at the sound of her voice. Peter smiled up at her.

“Thanks, Mrs. Darling,” he said appreciatively. She smiled.

“I know that lot can be pretty overwhelming and it's a small space. Though you’re gonna have to wait on the pizza rolls until tomorrow, Peter. They took today’s supply into the living room,” she told him. He pouted but shrugged.

“Ham sandwiches?” he asked hopefully. Her nod was as fond as it was exasperated.

“Of course. I can’t let my kids starve,” she joked. Peter waved theM forward and the older sibling followed him nervously back into the house. True to her word, Mrs. Darling had cleared the kitchen. Without the glares and excessive body heat, the small space felt cozy and welcoming. Jas didn’t trust the feeling any more than theY trusted the woman at the counter. She was making ham and cheese sandwiches with what looked like homemade bread. 

Peter perched in the seat closest to Mrs. Darling while Jas chose to stand behind him with easy access to the side door. None of the seating options were quite to theiR taste so this was just easier. As he lounged, Peter started to chatter at Mrs. Darling about his day and something that they had apparently been discussing for a while because she was asking questions and giving advice. Maybe a school project? Jas couldn’t tell because theY were absolutely dissociating.

What were theY even doing here? In this nice house with this nice lady who Peter was comfortable with. What if being here ruined this good thing Peter had going? He hadn’t even had a chance at the Ansell’s because Jas had already been there by the time he had shown up. The damage was done. But here? He had a chance to be a real kid with a real life. Even if it wasn’t his placement, this seemed like a pretty stable option for him.

“Jas, honey, what about you?” a female voice cut through theiR thoughts and Jas blinked up into Mrs. Darling’s smiling face. The smile was definitely a little forced. Peter had grabbed theiR hand again without theM noticing and Jas pulled away.

“What was that?” theY asked in a voice devoid of theiR usual snark. Mrs. Darling’s eyebrows creased a little more but her smile held.

“I asked what you would like to drink?” she repeated and Jas felt like sighing in relief. 

“Water is fine, ma’am,” theY replied instinctively. Peter shook his head with a laugh.

“Nah, it's not like that! They have koolaid!” Peter crowed happily. Jas smirked a little at Peter’s teasing.

“I can’t really afford a dentist to fix all the sugar damage, now can I?” Jas joked back. Peter’s mouth clicked shut as he looked up at Jas but the other teen wasn’t looking. TheiR gaze was on Mrs. Darling.

“Oh now honey, we have something other than water for you. We have tea, some soda but that’s even more sugary, or-”

“Iced tea is fine, Ma’am,” Jas interrupted the flow of offerings. TheiR heart lifted a little at the prospect of having real sweet tea but theY knew that it was unlikely.

“Unsweetened or Sweetened?” she asked.

“Sweetened, if it’s not too much trouble,” theY replied carefully. She smiled even more sweetly than before and pulled a jug out of the fridge. It was a large round glass one that made Jas’ heart ache a little. It looked just like theiR grandmother’s had. The memory hit theM all of a sudden, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. TheY had almost forgotten theY’d had a life before everything went to shit.

Mrs. Darling poured the dark brew into a glass and handed it to Jas carefully. TheY raised the drink to theiR lips and took a cautious sip. 

It was _perfect_. 

Exactly how theY remembered it. Swallowing a gasp, Jas clutched the glass in both hands and took a giant swallow. TheY hummed a little in pleasure as the cool liquid soothed theiR throat.

“I see you have an appreciation for southern sweet tea,” Mrs. Darling said from across the kitchen. Jas’ eyes popped open and theY truly smiled for the first time since entering the house.

“Yes, ma’am. Just like I remember it,” Jas replied, a little of theiR childhood accent slipping into theiR speech. Peter was staring up at theM in shock while Mrs. Darling just nodded.

“It was my grandmother’s recipe. She passed it along to all us kids. Do your parents make it often?” She asked, her own southern drawl coming out as well. Jas shut down at the mention of theiR parents.

“No, Ma’am,” theY replied, eyes downcast as theY set the glass on the table. 

“Jas is like me, Mrs. Darling,” Peter came to theiR rescue when it was clear Jas wasn’t going to try to say anything else. Glancing up through long lashes, theY saw sorrow on her face as she nodded at Peter.

“I see. Well,” she continued in a softer voice that made Jas look up at her warily, “If you’d like, I could share my grandmother’s recipe with you. If you don’t have your own, that is. It sounds like they might have been friends if the tea tastes the same.”

Tears pricked the corner of Jas’ eyes. This was more… more than they could imagine. Old family recipes were sacred in the south. Losing all of them had been almost as terrible as losing theiR family. T o share an old family recipe was almost unheard of. It was history and family and all the things one holds dear. And  _ never _ given away without some serious consideration.

“I couldn’t-” Jas started but Mrs. Darling shook her head.

“I’ll make up a recipe card for you before you leave today. Don’t you worry. Now, eat your sandwiches,” she insisted, putting a plate of sandwiches on the table and walking out into what Jas assumed was the living room. TheY slumped into the chair next to Peter’s, back to the wall, and picked up a sandwich.

“What the hell?” TheY asked after a few moments of staring at the sandwich in theiR hand in bewilderment. Peter coughed and choked on a laugh. Jas reached over and slapped his back.

“That’s Mrs. Darling for you. She is like, the best mother ever,” Peter gushed. “She let’s me sack out on the couch and order pay-per-view movies when things get bad at the foster and she always makes my favorite snacks.”

“Sounds pretty great,” Jas murmured before biting into the sandwich. It was good. The bread was heavy and dense, not like the cheap stuff from the grocery store for 89 cents. And the cheese was real cheddar layered with american and chip chop ham. After the first bite, Jas inhaled the rest of the sandwich and reached for another one. By the time theY had eaten three, Peter was just finishing his first. There was one sandwich left but Peter pushed it towards Jas.

“You need to eat,” Jas told him, pushing it back.

“I had lunch today. You weren’t in the lunchroom,” Peter argued quietly.

“Yeah, well maybe I eat lunch somewhere else now because I don’t want you picking fights in the middle of the cafeteria,” Jas tried to counter but Peter shook his head.

“You weren’t eating before that either. I know because I spent three days trying to find a good time for a fight,” Peter argued. Jas buried theiR face in theiR hands.

“Look-”

“Is your placement that bad?” Peter pressed. Jas shrugged.

“It's hard. They have a lot of bio kids. You know how that goes,” Jas admitted at last, hand going subconsciously to theiR stomach as theY felt the food theY had just consumed settle. “Honestly, I’ve had plenty for now. Any more and I’ll be sick.”

“Now I know why you didn’t want to miss Home Ec,” Peter murmured as he grabbed the sandwich. Jas shrugged.

“Can’t say no to free food,” theY agreed. Peter munched on his sandwich while Jas savored the last couple sips of sweet tea. TheY frowned down at the empty glass regretfully.

“You can get more,” Peter told theM. Jas' eyebrows arched in disbelief. “Seriously, they let us in the fridge here. You can go pour as much as you want… within reason.”

“I taught you well,” Jas smiled as theY ruffled Peter’s hair and stood. Crossing the kitchen to the fridge, Jas saw that the counter was piled with vegetables for prepping. Mrs. Darling must have been in the middle of prepping for dinner when they had all come in. Opening the fridge, Jas was surprised to see that it was emptier than theY had expected for a family of 5, not to mention the assorted hangers on that seemed to be fixtures. TheY found the tea easily and lifted it out of the fridge, letting the door swing shut. Pouring the tea carefully, Jas made sure not to spill a drop before replacing it in the fridge.

“It looks like you boys were hungry,” Mrs. Darling said from behind theM. Jas flinched and turned around to watch her as she entered the room. She had been smiling but the smile faded at theiR reaction. Peter slapped his forehead and started to open his mouth.

“It was good. Thanks,” Jas interrupted, not wanting Peter to cause a scene. Peter glared at theM.

“Actually, Jas uses they/them pronouns,” Peter told her while staring directly at theM. Jas closed the fridge as silently as theY could, inching towards the sliding back door. Mrs. Darling’s hand flew to her mouth in a quick gesture that almost had Jas running for the hills.

“Oh my, I am so sorry!” she exclaimed. Jas stopped, theiR nose wrinkling in confusion. What was that again? “I had no idea. I have been trying to build a habit of asking people’s pronouns when I first meet them but I forgot.”

“It's cool,” Jas shrugged. Peter nodded encouragingly with a cheeky smile on his face behind Mrs. Darling’s back.

“Well, I’m glad I know now. So it looks like you  _ kids _ were hungry. Would you like any more?” she offered. Jas’ hand went to theiR stomach again but theY shook theiR head. “Are you sure? We’ve still got a couple hours before dinner.”

“No thanks, Ma’am,” Jas replied. TheY were trying so hard not to mess this up for Peter’s sake. And Mrs. Darling made being respectful easier. TheY couldn’t remember the last time an adult had respected theiR pronouns. 

“I’m good,” Peter said happily. He stood and jerked his head towards the living room. “Wanna go watch TV?”

“No thanks,” Jas declined, taking another drink from the glass just in case theY were about to wear out their welcome. Peter huffed.

“Well, I gotta go in there and smooth things over. Come in when you’re ready,” he groused before climbing to his feet and walking into the other room. Jas watched, not sure exactly what to do now. Mrs. Darling smiled at theM and handed theM a dish towel.

“Looks like you got stuck with kitchen duty since you’re new here,” she teased. Jas shrugged.

“I’m actually passing Home Ec,” theY told her, glad that for the first time in theiR life theY were able to use theiR academic record to theiR advantage. Mrs. Darling smiled up a few inches into theiR face and theiR heart seized a little.

“That’s good to hear. I swear, Wendy just barely scraped by. She’s not one for domestic work,” She whispered conspiratorially. Jas actually chuckled at that which seemed to make Mrs. Darling happy. “Now, do you have any special dietary requirements?”

“Food,” Jas replied as they raised their eyebrows in a ‘duh’ sort of expression. 

“Good to know. Well, if anything changes, just let me know. I don’t always keep everything straight all the time but I do my best. Now, how about I wash up the snack plates and you dry?” she offered. Jas’ shoulders relaxed and theY nodded.

“I can do that,” theY agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Darling - @Brandicepuff  
> Wendy - @rhilentless  
> Curly - @merlot.exe
> 
> Before anyone comments about it, yes, Peter called Jas his 'brother'. All will be explained in due time but for sensitivity purposes, Peter and Jas already worked this out between them and they are both happy and comfortable with this terminology.


	5. Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So our supposed main protagonist finally gets a POV chapter. It's short but don't you worry, there's more where this came from!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what y'all think so far! This is just a fun brain child of mine but if you have any thoughts or constructive criticism, I'd love to hear it!

“What the actual fuck, Peter?” Rufio snapped when the redhead finally entered the living room. Wendy turned off the TV with the remote control as he walked in. Peter jumped back in surprise. Not that he was surprised by their reactions but he didn’t think they’d be waiting for him quite like this. Every eye was on him in a way that didn't _not_ fill him with confidence. 

Curly looked close to tears.

“Um, so yeah, Jas is cool now,” Peter chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with one gloved hand. Looter snorted while the Twins crossed their arms in a perfectly synchronized motion.

“What? Just like that? TheY’re suddenly just ‘cool’?” Wendy pressed. “You two have been at each other’s throats since the day you two met.”

“Not technically true,” Peter hedged. He still wasn’t sure how much of their past Jas was comfortable with him telling.

“What's going on, Peter?” Curly asked softly, all eyes going to theM in a heartbeat. Peter’s stomach dropped at the tears in the sweetest of the Lost Boy’s eyes.

“I… I can’t tell you everything. I just can’t,” Peter admitted through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to find the right words. He looked back up at Curly. “But I swear to you, Jas won’t come at you anymore. Or theiR crew.”

“What? Because theY said so? You really trust that?” Rufio challenged. Peter snarled at the other boy and a stunned silence fell over the room. Rufio’s face turned beet red and Peter turned his back on the group, hands coming up to cover his face.

“Yeah, I can trust that. I trust _theM_. But apparently you don’t trust me so-”

“You can trust him. And I get why you don’t trust me,” Jas interrupted from the doorway in front of him. Peter turned slightly so he could see the rest of the room. Looter and Wendy were on their feet in a moment, Looter with his hands balled into fists. Turning back, he saw that Jas hadn’t even bothered to look at them. TheY only had eyes for him. “You can tell them if you want. I don’t care.”

“You sure?” Peter sounded desperate even to himself. Jas raised his hand and Peter could hear the twins jump to their feet. Jas just ruffled his hair in a way absolutely no one else was allowed to. Peter had nearly broken a kid’s nose for touching his hair as a joke once. The rest of the group watched in stunned silence as Peter smiled up at Jas and took a deep breath. Jas moved past him and picked up the empty plate that the pizza rolls had been sitting on. Looking around, theY saw a small empty plate sitting next to Curly on the sofa arm rest. Peter held his breath and waited. Tensing as if theY were steeling themselF for what promised to be a VERY awkward interaction, Jas took another step towards the couch.

“Can I take that in for you?” theY asked carefully, staying out of arm’s reach from the smaller kid. Curly stared up at theM with undisguised suspicion for a long moment. Carefully, Curly shifted until theY could reach for the plate and put it on the coffee table in front of theM. Neutral territory. 

Jas waited until Curly had sat back before picking up the plate and walking back into the kitchen. Peter resisted the urge to heave a sigh of relief. As theY passed Peter theY whispered,

“Call me if you need me.”

Peter felt a knot in his stomach come undone at the words. Jas was back in his corner and that was worth every second of convincing his friends. 

It was worth everything.


	6. George

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which George arrives home to a full house.

“Mary, I’m home!” George called as he walked in the side door from the driveway. The clatter of crockery in the kitchen made him wince but he was used to the noises of a rambunctious household. As he mounted the stairs, he saw a teenager he had never encountered before staring back at him. The kid was taller than he was with a hard jaw and angry brown eyes. George recognized the worn sweater and wary expression as a kid from the ‘wrong side of the tracks’. 

At this rate, they might as well open a damn bed and breakfast.

“Hey honey,” Mary replied from behind the new mystery child. George removed his cap and hung his cane on the hook designated to him on the landing before making his way into the kitchen. The kid skittered back until they were behind Mary… standing next to Peter. 

Oh, he couldn’t wait to hear this one.

“Who do we have here?” George asked as he pecked his wife on the lips in greeting. She smiled up into his eyes. The delighted twinkle was a whole new level of excitement for her. He hadn’t seen that since the day he had found a pack of Cheerwine in the specialty section of the grocery store and surprised her with them for dinner.

“This is Jas, a friend of Peter’s,” Mary introduced. She grinned over at theM but Jas made no move to smile or say hello. Peter nudged theM and theY looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. The silent, encouraging nod towards George had the taller child looking as if theY’d rather jump off a bridge. Finally, after a full awkward minute, theY mumbled out in a low voice,

“Hullo.” 

Peter actually shrieked with laughter and Mary covered a smile with her hand. She couldn’t disguise the dancing mirth in her eyes. The teenager tensed and glared down at Peter with a fierce scowl.

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you,” George introduced smoothly. The calm, even tone brought the kid’s attention back to him with a wary sort of regard. “My name is George but you can call me Mr. Darling if you’re more comfortable with that. It fluctuates in this house.”

Jas just nodded but didn’t make any effort to continue the admittedly awkward conversation so Mary finally swooped in to rescue them.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Go get washed up,” she said happily and kissed him on the cheek. George stared at her for a moment before looking back up at Jas.

“She must love you. I haven’t seen her this happy in ages,” he told theM before walking out of the room. Glancing back as he rounded the corner, George saw a shocked look on the kid’s face that made his stomach clench a little. He tried to smile as he entered the living room. The atmosphere in this room was noticeably different from the downright giddy kitchen. A crowd of teenagers piled on every piece of furniture and glared up at him when he walked in.

“Hello singular child of mine and hoard of children I did not create and yet continuously feed,” he greeted. No one smiled. No one laughed. His eyebrows rose as their frowns deepened. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Wendy hissed.

“Everything is just peachy,” Rufio sneered. The twins and Looter rolled their eyes before focusing back on the television. Curly didn’t even look up from theiR book.

“Okay then,” he said carefully before going up the stairs to the second floor. He saw that the door to John’s room was closed but the light was off so it wasn’t likely that he was there. He was probably at one of his friends' houses playing that game he was always talking about. Michael’s door was closed… which was odd. George walked past, intent on getting out of his tie and into- 

Dammit, he had to check on Michael. Going back to his youngest’s door, he knocked carefully. There was a slight rustle behind the closed door but no answer.

“Michael, it's me,” George called gently. The door swung open to reveal a trembling but defiant Michael staring up at him.

“I don’t want to come down for dinner,” he said fiercely. George took a step back, not sure where this rage came from but at least he wasn’t crying this time.

“Okay… can I ask why?” his father asked. Michael shrugged. George’s patience, not known for being enduring, ran out. “May I come in, please?”

Michael hesitated before opening the door wider and letting his father in. The room was as messy as he had expected. There were books and papers and clothes on every surface but at least the bed was clear. Michael sat on it while George moved a few books from the chair to the laden desk to sit.

“What?” Michael asked in that mulish teenager way that George had hoped he would never have to deal with from his youngest. Didn’t Wendy give enough sass for the three of them?”

“What on earth is going on? I walk in and there are two distinctly different temperatures in this house,” George replied honestly. Michael’s frown deepened.

“Oh, didn’t you meet the newest member in our motley crew of dinner guests?” Michael snapped. George nodded.

“Yes, I met Jas. I’m guessing that’s the problem then?”

“Got it the first time.”

“What’s wrong with him being here?”

“TheM. TheY use they/them pronouns,” Michael corrected automatically. Just because he obviously didn’t like Jas didn’t mean it was okay to misgender theM apparently. He was raising a good kid. George nodded.

“Sorry, theM. Why is everyone upset that theY are here?”

“TheY… are kind of the biggest bully in Neverland High,” Michael admitted. George’ eyebrows shot up.

“Peter seems to be-”

“Peter and theM have fought at least once a week since school started. None of us really get why theY’re here but something happened this afternoon and now Peter is dragging theM around like a long lost toy.”

“I see. Well, that would be problematic. Peter usually doesn’t put up with bullies,” George agreed. He was hoping to draw more out of his youngest, and most talkative, child. It worked.

“TheY harass Curly and me all the time. TheY just won’t give it a damn rest,” Michael snapped. George frowned at that.

“Do you think theY’d try something here?” he asked. Michael shook his head.

“No, something is different about theM right now. Maybe it's because Mom has barely let theM out of her sight since theY got here,” he answered. 

“Well, we will just have to wait and see. But if theY make one wrong move, I’ll make sure to show theM the door,” George assured him. Michael smiled up at him gratefully.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, kid. Thanks for filling me in.”

Of course, now he just had to make good on that promise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> George Darling - @mrlovewelllovestoday


	7. Curly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get Curly's opinion on the situation, shall we?

“Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. Darling shouted from the kitchen. Curly was so tense that theY jumped and dropped theiR book at the sound. Everything about the evening had gone down hill from the moment Peter had dragged Hook through the Darling’s door. TheY couldn’t understand what had possessed Peter to do such a thing. He hadn’t elaborated on his and Hook’s history, even after the older teen had given him permission. Peter had just insisted that they all trust that he had a good reason for this sudden change before disappearing back into the kitchen. Everyone had fallen into a grumpy silence after that.

Climbing to theiR feet, Curly drifted into the kitchen, following the rest of the group. Mr. Darling and Michael came in behind theM. That made theM feel a little more secure. Mr. Darling wouldn’t let anything happen to any of them while he was in the house.

Hook was standing back by the door to the deck, far from the table, while everyone else grabbed their plates and servings. The mad scramble was not out of the ordinary and Curly found themselF caught up in the rush to get at least some of the scalloped potatoes. 

By the time theY made it to the dining room door, theY realized that Hook was nowhere to be seen. Peering back into the kitchen, Curly saw Mrs. Darling encouraging Hook to fill theiR plate. Curly took a seat far from the door, sandwiched between Marmaduke and Michael. The only seat left was between Peter and Mrs. Darling. Speaking of whom, she ushered Hook through the door and into theiR seat while the rest of the group glared up at theM. Hook sneered back, eyes flashing and dangerous. Only Peter was spared theiR look of disdain. 

“Are we ready?” Mr. Darling asked as they all settled onto their seats. Curly watched Hook through theiR lashes as theY kept theiR head down. The dark haired teen was watching Mr. Darling with the inherent distrust that Peter and Rufio had both watched him with when they had first been introduced. Curly considered this as Mr. Darling led the group in prayer and everyone began to eat. The meal was damn near silent with only the clink of cutlery to break up the oppressive atmosphere.

Mrs. Darling was obviously confused by their attitudes as she looked around the table. She looked between Peter and Hook, neither of whom looked up from their plates. By the time Wendy, Looter, and Rufio had gone for seconds, Curly saw that Hook’s plate was empty. Peter was glaring at theM but Hook just matched him look for look. Curly looked away when Peter's eyes flicked up to scan the table. Then, thinking no one was watching, Peter scraped his untouched potatoes onto Hook’s plate. Curly dropped theiR fork in shock. The clatter drew every eye to theM but theY just picked it up and kept eating, a blush rising onto theiR cheeks. 

Finally, Mrs. Darling put down her fork and glared around the table.

“What on earth is the matter with you all?” she asked, sounding frustrated. Hook, who had just taken another bite of potato, put down theiR fork without a sound. Curly watched theM eye the rest of the table warily as Peter sat up a little straighter.

There’s trouble in the air, theY could smell it.

“Why don’t you ask Peter? He’s the only one who can tell it,” Rufio snapped. The boys glared at each other but Peter didn’t say anything. Curly watched his face as, for the first time in anyone’s memory, he backed down from a fight.

“Nah, I’d rather not,” he said in that arrogant way that almost always ended up with him getting punched. Wendy slammed her fork on the table.

“Does it look like we care what you’d rather at this point?” she yelled, standing up to tower over Peter, stunning them all. None of them had ever seen Wendy’s temper bloom quite like this. “After what theY’ve done, to you and Curly and Michael and everyone else?! You just expect us to forgive and forget without any explanation?”

“Michael? What happened to Michael?” Mrs. Darling asked. Curly watched as Hook’s gaze flicked to their side of the table. Michael’s bruise was fading but his eye was still a little colorful. Curly knew that Hook hadn’t done that. More importantly, theY knew that  _ Wendy _ was aware it had been a Pirate who had beat up Michael. But if falsely accusing Hook was what it took to drive theM out of the house…

“This wasn’t Hook,” Michael piped up. Wendy glared down at her little brother but the tension in Curly’s neck suddenly dissipated. Apparently, theY hadn’t been okay with the false accusation.

“You know what, thanks for the meal but I think I’ve worn out my welcome,” Hook said, pushing back theiR chair to rise and retreat from the table before anyone could argue. TheY disappeared with theiR mostly empty plate into the kitchen. Peter tried to jump to his feet. Before he had freed himself from the table, the whole room heard the side door open and shut. Peter glared so angrily up at Wendy that she actually leaned back.

None of them had ever seen him so furious before.

“This time, you’ve gone too far,” he hissed before turning to chase after Hook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter is where I really start making shit up. Mostly about Mary's backstory. Let it be known that for the intents and purposes of this story, Neverhigh is based in a mid-sized midwestern town... because that is what I know best. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	8. Wendy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, actually posting something I've written. Miracles apparently do still happen. I have a lot more of this written but I still need to edit it. Not sure if anyone other than me is actually enjoying this but I like to re-read it so... yeah. 
> 
> Where was I going with this? Doesn't matter. Here's another chapter. 
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!

Wendy slumped back onto her chair with tears in her eyes that she valiantly fought to keep from falling. This had gone so much worse than she could have thought. Hook was digging theiR claws into Peter, pulling him down and away from her. From all of them. She sniffed a little as she stared at the ceiling and willed herself not to cry over stupid boys and his stupid friends. She looked around at the faces at the table, some approving and some disturbed. Her father had that contemplative look on his face that she could never read that usually made her crazy. Now, she hoped he was thinking of ways to bring Peter back.

A napkin appeared in her field of vision. Wendy looked back at her mother, who seemed to have recovered from her shock though her hand was still pressed over her heart. She tried to smile as she took the kerchief but froze at the coldness in her mother’s eyes.

“I love you, sweetie, but that was downright mean,” she told her oldest child before standing smoothly and walking out the door into the kitchen. Wendy gaped after her in pure shock. 

What the hell had she said? Fury burned through her again and Wendy leapt up to follow. If she was going to go chase after the school bully instead of taking care of her own family…

Wendy stood in the kitchen for a moment to collect herself before following the merry band of idiots out the side door. But instead of an angry Hook, a fighty Peter or a weeping Mom, she just saw Peter standing at the end of the driveway alone. Her mom was a few feet back with her arms crossed. Wendy marveled at how Peter could look so small when he was usually larger than life… certainly larger than his 5’10”. Now he looked tiny in his oversized jacket and floppy hair.

“Peter, honey-“ her mom was saying but Peter cut her off in a dull, sad voice.

“TheY’re gone.”

“You’ll see theM again tomorrow,” she encouraged. Peter shrugged.

“Maybe,” he told her as he walked a few steps closer to her. “TheY skip school a lot.”

“Do you know where they go?” she asked, opening her arms so they hung by her side. 

“No idea. We hadn’t spoken nicely before today,” he admitted.

“But you did today. And then next time you see them, you can do it again. Please apologize to theM for us. TheY didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of that outburst of Wendy’s,” she insisted sincerely. Peter’s answering chuckle was humorless and empty.

“That wasn’t bad. It doesn’t even register on the ‘bad meals’ scale.”

“Peter-“

“You know, one time, at the Ansell’s… Jas wasn’t even home that night. Or theY weren’t supposed to be. TheY were staying at a friend’s because they actually had friends back then and I definitely didn’t. Anyway, Jas caught wind that it had been a bad day down at the mechanics shop where Ansell worked. So theY cancelled theiR plans and came back for dinner,” Peter told her softly. Wendy could only just hear him through the dark night over the late summer crickets. 

“What happened?” Mrs. Darling asked at last. Peter shrugged.

“Apparently, Mrs. Ansell had been… messing around with a few people in town. Maybe sleeping around, I don’t know. But she didn’t hate me like she hated Jas so Mr. Ansell was suspicious. I was just a kid but he was jealous? I don’t know but it was not a good night. So Jas came home and Ansell was just getting ready to lay into me. TheY… shoved him away from me before he could do more than push me into a wall. TheY protected me. So Ansell sent me up to my room. I couldn’t hear what happened after that but the next day, Jas had a massive bruise on theiR face that turned a really awful purple. TheY wouldn’t tell me what happened but something changed after that,” Peter confided. By the time he had finished, Mrs. Darling had him wrapped up in a warm hug. He clung to her, letting her rub his back soothingly in a way that Wendy couldn’t remember him ever accepting. He usually didn’t let anyone hug him at all. No bro hugs, rarely even accepting friendly shoulder clasps from the Lost Boys. She filed away that information as she continued to listen.

“TheY sound like a good older sibling,” Mrs. Darling murmured. Peter shook his head but didn’t let go.

“TheY should have protected themselF. TheY shouldn’t have been volunteering for more when theY already had it worse with the Ansell's than I did. And a few days later… theY left entirely. TheY ran away and I didn’t see theM again until the first day of school this year,” Peter told her. She sighed.

“So why didn’t you both pick up where you left off? As siblings?” She asked.

“It was my fault,” he said into her shoulder. It was muffled and Wendy crept a little closer to hear more clearly. “TheY saw me on the first day and I ignored them. Whatever I had done to make theM leave… but theY said today that I hadn’t done anything. But back then I thought theY didn’t care. That theY didn’t want me for a brother anymore.”

“So you lashed out?”

“…I have my reasons. And ever since then we’ve been fighting. Until today when I thought I finally got theM back… and now theY’re gone again,” he finished in a defeated tone that made a chill run down Wendy’s spine. 

“I think both of you have proven that your bond is stronger than a little spat,” Mrs. Darling soothed. Peter hiccuped and pulled back to look her dead in the eyes. Wendy wondered what he must be thinking. 

“Do you actually think so?” He asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion. Mrs. Darling didn’t hesitate. 

“Absolutely. I’ve fought with my sisters so many times but we always make up. I didn’t speak to Susan for two whole years after she stole my hairbrush… and my boyfriend,” she told him. His eyebrows almost hit his hairline and a laugh slipped through his frown to turn it into an incredulous smile. 

“She what?!” He exclaimed. She shrugged. 

“You see, I was sweet on the farm hand, Johnny. And we had been taking long walks at dusk to watch the fireflies and talk about anything. And then at the fall festival that year he asked Susan to dance instead. Apparently, they had been taking sunrise walks…” she told him. Peter’s hands came up to cover his mouth. Mrs. Darling only laughed. 

“What happened?” He asked. 

“I packed my bags and went to college. I had been considering it for a while but that made my choice easy. I didn’t come home for two years until I got a call saying that I needed to come back. Mamma said it was time for me to make up with my sister. I was still angry but in a distant way since I was happy at school in the city,” she told him. Wendy listened so intently she nearly stopped breathing. She had never heard this story. Now she knew where she got her storytelling skills from. “Daddy picked me up from the bus station but he was never one for talking so the ride was pretty quiet. Well, the second we crossed the property line back onto the farm I started to cry. It was home and I had missed it desperately. But when we pulled up to the house, I saw everyone standing on the porch. My mom, my siblings, and Johnny. Standing next to a pregnant Susan.”

“Oh wow,” Peter breathed. 

“Yep, they had been trying to have a wedding since I had left but something always got in the way. So they had finally just gone down to the courthouse with a witness and got hitched,” she told him. His mouth hung open… much like Wendy’s. “But with the baby due soon, Susan and Johnny wanted to make things right with me apparently.”

“What-?”

“I was so mad I ran right past them up to my old bedroom. It took three days before I could sit down with Susan and actually make up. It took a lot of tears but we finally mended our relationship,” she told him with a smile. Wendy marveled at her mother’s story. She had never known that about Aunt Susan. She had thought that her mother and Susan had always been thick as thieves.

“That’s a lot of talking,” Peter sighed after a minute. Mrs. Darling snickered at that.

“Yes, it is. Siblings aren’t guaranteed, even when you’re biosibs. Every relationship takes work,” Mrs. Darling told him, booping him on the nose gently. He wiggled his nose like a rabbit at the touch but he didn’t flinch back. That was progress in Wendy’s mind.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” He promised. “But I don’t think I’m ready to forgive Wendy yet.”

The pure fear in his voice as he voiced an honest feeling for once made Wendy's heart drop.

“That’s okay. You can be mad at her for a while. She hurt you and someone you care about. You are allowed to feel your feelings. Just don’t let it fester for so long that it becomes infected. Give it a day or two and see how you feel.”

“Thanks.” 

Wendy turned to creep back into the backyard as her mother wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulder and pulled him close to her side.

“Of course.”


	9. Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? Apparently, I've lost my marbles.

The next few days were… stressful. Peter hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jas since theY had fled from the Darling household. Peter couldn’t even say he was surprised. Jas had a habit of disappearing when shit got too stressful. It was a coping mechanism developed from years in the foster system. 

That didn’t mean he was happy with the situation, though. He hadn’t talked to Wendy or any of the Darlings since that night. The Lost Boys all sat together at lunch but it was awkward. The Twins were working overtime as comedic relief and distractions. Peter had given them both nuggies to show his thanks which had left them beaming. He realized that they looked up to him the same way he had looked up to Jas. No wonder theY had freaked out and bounced. This kind of responsibility was terrifying and they didn’t even live in the same house. But the Twins were self-sufficient and generally got themselves out of trouble. He didn’t really need to worry about them.

He  _ was _ starting to worry about Jas though. By the time Friday rolled around, he was about ready to explode. His already short attention span and temper were just about shot as his nerves started getting the best of him. He pulled up to 4th period study hall with a glare and a bad attitude. Looking around, he saw the swing of a familiar brown ponytail. 

Forcing himself not to react, he sat down at his usual table. He had chosen his seat so he could see the whole lecture hall. This meant that he didn’t have to change his habits at all to watch Jas as theY sat with some of theiR crew. Peter wondered if Tuesday had been a fluke and Jas had forgotten their truce entirely. TheY were acting normal enough. 

Suddenly, Jas’ head popped up and theY looked around the room. When their eyes met, both siblings shared a look. Something between ‘I see you’ and ‘Are we good?’. Peter nodded, hoping that him putting out an olive branch would bring Jas back. Jas just nodded back before returning to theiR conversation with another member of theiR crew… Turk, maybe? Shrugging off the uneasy feeling, Peter opened up his history book to try and finish the essay he had been avoiding since Monday. 

He was so distracted that he didn’t even notice some people had left the hall until Rufio grabbed his arm.

“Hook is going after Curly,” he snapped. Peter jumped to his feet.

“Where?” he tried not to panic as Rufio led him out the hall and down the corridor to the bathrooms at the end of the hall. Curly was standing alone with a giant smile on theiR face as theY looked up at the empty staircase.

“Are you okay?” Rufio asked theM. TheiR smile widened.

“Better than okay. I just told Hook off!” TheY exclaimed. Peter frowned but Curly was too busy high fiving Rufio to notice. “TheY were calling me a crybaby and making fun of my book on my way to the bathroom so I just told theM off! TheY probably would have kicked my ass if you hadn’t shown up but that felt great!”

“Nice job, Curly!” Rufio congratulated. Peter managed a smile and a high five for theM. TheY looked concerned so he tried to explain his feelings… which was not his strong suit.

“Hook promised not to heckle you anymore so I’m pissed theY came after you. But I’m glad you stuck up for yourself,” he told theM. Curly positively beamed at his praise so he figured he’d said the right thing. But that meant that Jas had probably decided a truce wasn’t worth theiR time. As they walked back to the study hall, he tried to wrestle all those hurt feelings back down into the box he had put them in the first day of school.

“Peter, do you think Hook will come after me for showing them up in front of theiR crew?” Curly asked when they had been working quietly for a bit. Peter’s head flew up to see the entire table staring at him. He shrugged.

“TheY can try. But they will all have to go through us to get to you, Curly. So I don’t think so. Just… stick close to some of us for the rest of the day,” Peter told theM. Curly nodded and grinned as Looter and Rufio jostled theM good naturedly.

Peter kept glancing around but Jas never came back to study hall. That wasn’t surprising but he had hoped… It didn’t matter. TheY had made their choice apparently. He was wasting his time worrying about it. 

Or at least, that’s what he spent the rest of the morning telling himself.

By lunch time, he was somewhere between uncaring and pissed off. He didn’t want to hear the Lost Boys talk about video games he’d never played or people he didn’t care about. He just wanted some fucking peace. Which was what brought him out to the courtyard with a brown paper bag and some pent up aggression. He was just looking around for something to throw and break when someone sat next to him on the edge of the raised bed he had chosen as his seat.

“You’ve been in a shit mood all week,” Lily said as she opened her bento box. Peter wrinkled his nose at the smell of fish and seaweed.

“You could say that,” he snapped. She just shrugged and popped a piece of sushi into her mouth.

“Anything in particular you want to talk about?” she asked. It was his turn to shrug. “You know, I am pretty smart. Maybe I could help.”

“You are smart. But it’s not a school thing.”

“Do you think I’m just book smart?” she snapped. He rolled his eyes and gave her a ‘you know what I mean’ look. She laughed at his narrowed eyebrows and pouting lips. “Exactly. And I know for a fact that whatever has been bothering you this week has something to do with Hook.”

“And just how do you know that?” he asked suspiciously. 

“Curly told me,” she replied. Peter flung himself back onto the green turf inside the raised bed.

“I’m sure theY were ever so nice about it too,” Peter groused. 

“I don’t know. Curly was upset but it didn’t sound like Jas had done anything new,” she said nonchalantly. Peter peered up at her as he sat up.

“Jas?” he asked. Everyone here called theM ‘Hook’.

“I do know theiR first name. We have Home Ec together. Teach paired us up because Jas knows how to turn on a stove and I want an A so we actually do the projects.”

“Oh,” Peter was sure he looked as dumbfounded as he felt. Lily didn’t bother to look up.

“TheY aren’t that bad. At least, not to me. We’ve talked a few times outside of class. TheY are a jerk but in a… charming way?” she tilted her head as she sounded out the word. Peter raised his eyebrows at her which made her laugh. “Not like that! Like… as a friend, sort of. But we aren’t tight. I’m not part of theiR crew anymore than I am a member of the Lost Boys. Just friends and Home Ec partners.”

“Well, I’m glad at least one person doesn’t hate them entirely,” Peter muttered after a few moments. Lily shrugged.

“If theY weren’t so mean all the time, it would be different. But theY are good to theiR crew and people theY like,” she mused. Peter pulled out his sandwich from his bag. It was peanut butter and jelly. Not bad but not his favorite.

“Wanna trade?” Lily offered. He looked down at her box and then up at her face. Her eyes danced with mischief and the smile on her face was impish.

“I think I’m good, thanks,” he chuckled. She nudged him with her elbow and popped another piece of sushi into her mouth. 

They sat in silence as Peter tried to figure out his next move. Go find Jas or let theM come to him. 

“So what happened anyway?” Lily prodded, yanking him out of his thoughts. 

“Nothing.” Peter snapped, defenses going up immediately. Lily rocked back but her expression of blithe interest didn’t change.

“You’re not a great liar.”

“Look, it’s nothing.”

“Which is why you’ve been pissy all week.”

“I thought you talked to Curly.”

“TheY just told me that you and Jas made a truce and then Jas disappeared.”

“Oh… well… yeah that’s true.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

“Yeah well I’m not. We made a truce and then theY disappeared a few hours later for a fucking week.”

“Why did theY vanish?”

“Because Wendy decided to throw down over the freaking dinner table for no reason. TheY hadn’t done anything to her. I don’t think Jas has ever talked to Wendy outside of the one time we got into it and she made me stop.”

“So she just yelled at theM and theY left?” Lily asked, her brows furrowing as she studied a piece of sushi clamped between her chopsticks. “That doesn’t sound like Jas.”

“Well… it was at the Darling’s house. And it was the first time Jas had ever been there.” Peter hedged, not wanting to reveal Jas’ panic attack to Lily for no reason. 

“Oh, yeah, that would be uncomfortable,” Lily agreed. Peter stared at her and she started to laugh. ‘I’m sorry but that many people can be intimidating!”

He felt himself start to laugh for the first time in days. He rolled backwards, kicking his legs out as he let the laughter poured out of his mouth. Looking up he could see that Lily was wiping tears from her eyes as she smiled wide.

“Yeah, I guess they can be. Especially when the Lost Boys are there too,” Peter agreed at last. 

“Exactly. And if the Lost Boys weren’t welcoming, it is even more intimidating. Just… chill out for the first time in your life, Pan,” Lily ribbed him gently. He nodded and finished his sandwich.

“Okay, I can do that.”

“We’ll see.”

“You wound me!” He grabbed his chest dramatically, drawing another laugh from her.

“You’re an idiot,” she sassed back. 

“But I’m your idiot.” He said it like a joke but the blush that rushed to her cheeks made him think that maybe he had said something wrong. 

“I don’t think anyone will ever tame you, Peter Pan,” she replied more gently. He shrugged and grinned in his trademark style. 

“I’ll never grow up entirely,” he said proudly before balling up his sandwich bag. Lily closed her empty bento box and slid it back into her bag. 

“Want to split a cookie,” she asked, offering a massive chocolate chip to him. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

“What’s in it?”

“Plenty of animal products,” she said sardonically. He chuckled and broke off a piece. It was good though not quite on the level of Mrs. Darling. 

“Thanks,” he said through a mouthful. She chuckled and took a bite of her own. 

They spent the rest of the rest period sitting in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. When the bell rang to signal the end of the period, Peter jumped to his feet. 

“Time for history,” he groaned. Lily rolled her eyes. 

“It’s good for you to learn about the mistakes of the past,” she chided as they walked to class together. He shook his head. 

“But so much of it just bullshit! Like the one teacher I had in my last school, she said that ‘Native Americans moved so the pilgrims could settle in America’. She literally wasn’t going to say shit about the Trail of Tears!” He ranted. Lily froze next to him and he looked at her with an apologetic frown. 

“Did you say something?” She asked softly. His grin warmed her heart as it spread evilly across his face. 

“I stood up and yelled she was a two bit substitute who’d never read a history book in her life. And then I pulled out a different text book, an English book, that had a bit about the trail of tears and slammed it on her desk in front of everyone. I got detention for it but it was worth it.” He crowed proudly. 

“Did she keep her job?”

“They made her go through 8 weeks of training before she was allowed to teach history again. Apparently she got it right after that. I heard someone say she even went to a protest for Native American rights in DC.”

“Wow, you created an ally. That’s impressive.”

“Eh, it was just standing up and showing her the facts. She was an easy sell. The ones here are purposefully assholes.”

“That’s true enough.”

“Like, I was just walking down the hall the other day and I had this random ass thought come up,” he said, hands flailing as he walked and talked. He missed the small smile growing on her face as he ranted. “What if folks fought as hard for Native Americans as they did to use them as mascots? Imagine that shit right!”

“Yeah. It seems like no matter what I do, I can’t get anyone to care about the fact that our mascot is super racist.”

“Exactly! That’s fucking bullshit!” Peter exclaimed, looking over at her. She had shrunk down a little, her shoulders hunched and she looked… sad. “Hey, it’s oka-“

“What’s the point?!” She exclaimed with tears suddenly filling her sparkling brown eyes. Peter felt as if a bucket of water had been poured down his spine as chills rant through his body. 

“Huh? Lily?”

“What’s the point in just drowning another day?” She asked again, a desolate look in her eyes as she glanced up at him. The flick of her eyelashes made two streams of tears run down her face. He felt his own face soften as his shoulders fell. 

“I know that I don’t get it. But the world will show you that you won’t regret it,” he told her with a half smile. He took off his outer jacket and handed it to her as she shivered from the late autumn chill and sad thoughts. 

“You really think so?” 

“Definitely. You’re gonna change the world, I can tell,” he told her seriously. “You’re a tiger. They’ll never see you coming!”

“A what?” She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“A tiger!” He said with bright eyes and an encouraging smile. She started to laugh wetly. 

“My full name is actually “Tiger Lily”, like the flower. I just go by Lily at school so no one can make fun of my name,” she admitted. His jaw dropped before the most serious expression she’d ever seen him wear settled on his face. 

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“I know. I wouldn’t have told you if I thought you couldn’t be trusted.”

“I’m not known for being trustworthy,” he warned.

“I make my own judgments of who is trustworthy and who isn’t,” she told him sternly. His hands went up in surrender. 

“Okay okay!” He laughed. They walked to class in companionable silence. When she gave his jacket back at the door, he noticed her shiver. She didn’t say anything but walked into the classroom with her head held high. Peter shrugged it back on and wondered why she didn’t bring a jacket to class if she was cold all the time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've learned most of what I know about Native Americans/First Nations people and culture on tik tok and in the American education system so my knowledge is not nearly as robust as it should be. If you have any comments, concerns, corrections, or recommendations about how I could better portray Lily's character or background, please let me know. My intent is to be as respectful and informative as possible so please call me out, kindly if you can.
> 
> Lily is inspired by @starlenia on tik tok and instagram!


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